Cardinal Directions
by Chainlinks
Summary: After a blind date gone awry, Prussia and Romano decide to team up to break up Germany and Veneziano. Needless to say, things don't quite go exactly as planned. Germany/North Italy, Prussia/Romano.
1. Give Me An Evening

Author's Note: Written for the Hetalia Kink Meme on Livejournal. This is the cleaned up version, and I retitled it from "That's Amore". Rated for sexiness and language. Pairings include Romano/Prussia and Germany/Veneziano.

Partners In Crime

"Ve~" Veneziano said, peeking into the kitchen. "Romano, is that what you're wearing on your blind date? You aren't going to make a good impression like that!"

Romano glared. "I told you already, I am not agreeing to whatever idiotic plan that you and the potato bastard have come up with! I'm not dumb, you know. I know you're just trying to distract me with mushy romance so that you two can make out. Well it's not going to work! I'm not letting that wurst-for-brains jerk give you German Cooties or annex you or get you pregnant and then leave you depressed and alone without even paying child support!"

Veneziano stared blankly at Romano. "So you really want to wear your apron to your date?" he asked. "Well. Okay. I guess it's kind of cute with the ruffles and I'm pretty sure he likes cute things..."

Romano's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You're trying to set me up with Spain, aren't you? I'm going to punch the potato bastard for even suggesting that and then I'm going to headbutt Spain for agreeing to it, stupid perverted idiot..."

"It's not Spain!" Veneziano said cheerfully. "It's someone else. And I really, really think you'll like him if you give him a chance! Please promise to give him a chance!"

"I didn't agree to the date at all," Romano grumbled, but Veneziano's lower lip was stuck out in a trembling pout that warned of imminent tears and Romano knew he didn't stand a chance against his brother when quivering lips and crying were involved.

"F-fine," Romano snapped, averting his eyes. "But it's just one date and I'm not promising to like him or anything! If I do this, you'd better not pester me about it ever again, either!"

Veneziano wrapped his brother in a gleeful hug. "You're going to have so much fun! Germany and I planned everything! You'll go for a romantic dinner and eat pasta together, and then you'll go on a stroll along the beach in the moonlight!"

"I'm probably going to hate him. You have horrible taste in men," Romano said, peeling Veneziano off of him irritably.

"But Germany doesn't! Germany picked him out because he said that it would be like hitting two birds with one stone. I don't know what he meant by that, but he likes me so I know he has good taste!"

Romano winced at the idea of dating someone as flighty as his brother, but didn't actually say anything other than a mumbled "Yeah, well, whatever."

"So are you going to wear the apron on your date? Because he's going to be here soon, so if you want to get changed, you should probably do it now!" Veneziano said, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying to look as innocent as possible as he surveyed Romano's outfit.

Romano scowled. "Well then he's going to have to wait until I finished making these noodles! Who does he think he is, showing up and expecting me to just drop everything for a stupid date with him?"

"Ve~, Romano!" Veneziano whined. "I'll finish the noodles later if you want, and I'll help you get ready too. I want you to look nice! And then you and Pr -- um, I mean your date! You and your date will fall in love and be really happy together and get married and have little babies and then we'll be one giant family!"

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Romano demanded.

"Just put these clothes on and you'll be fine!" Veneziano said cheerfully, shoving an armload of clothes into Romano's hands. Romano stared at the clothes, wondering where they had come from. Veneziano hadn't been holding them a moment ago, had he?

Whatever. This was just further proof that behind that vacant grin, his brother was a manipulative fiend who had _plans_.

Romano took off his loose house pants and frilly white waist apron, shucking them carelessly on the floor and replacing them with the pressed cream slacks that Veneziano had given him. "They make my butt look weird," Romano said bluntly, staring at his reflection in the oven door.

"They make your butt look good," Veneziano corrected. "Now the shirt!"

Romano began unbuttoning his shirt with an annoyed eyeroll, but as he was pulling it off, there was a loud knock on the door. Veneziano squealed and raced for the door. "I'll get it! I'll get it!" he shouted.

Romano trailed after, curious despite himself about this "date".

Veneziano flung open the door excitedly, revealing... a pair of black slacks and an enormous bouquet of white roses and blue cornflowers. "Hello," said the bouquet in bored monotone. "It is such a pleasure to meet you. I'm really looking forward to getting to know you, although as I look into your eyes, I feel as if I already -- what the fuck is this crap?"

"Read the note cards," said a resigned voice from just out of sight. Romano scowled. He recognized that voice. Potato bastard.

"These note cards suck," the bouquet replied. "Besides, I don't need note cards taken out of your stupid books in order to woo someone. I'm Prussia. No one can resist this kind of awesome!"

"Read the note cards," Germany gritted out.

"Give flowers to date," said the bouquet, now revealed to be Germany's brother Prussia. The bouquet lowered, and Prussia peered at Veneziano. "You're adorable! You look just like Veneziano, except cuter since you're going on a date with the incredibly awesome Prussia instead of mooning over my less-awesome brother." Prussia thrust the flowers at Veneziano. "These are for you."

"I don't think.." Veneziano said hesitantly. Romano interrupted him without actually saying anything, but through the sheer force of his glare as he stormed in the room.

"Nevermind!" Prussia said, yanking the flowers away from Veneziano and shoving them in Romano's direction. "I call the shirtless one! Tough luck, West."

Romano flushed bright red as he realized that, yes, he was shirtless. He quickly yanked on the red button-up shirt that Veneziano had handed him earlier and began buttoning it up to the topmost button. "Shut up! Forget it. I'm not going on this date."

"Romano~" Veneziano whined, jutting his lip out and staring at Romano with water brimming at the corners of his eyes.

Damn it. It was the return of the quivery pout and the tears. That was cheating.

Romano stomped up to Prussia and snatched the flowers, then tossed them on a low table. "Come on, then. Let's get this over with."

"Eager, are we?" Prussia said, slinging his arm around Romano's waist as they walked out the door.

"Get your perverted hands off me!" Romano shrieked, scampering forward out of Prussia's grip.

When they were out of sight and earshot, Germany slipped inside the house.

"That went really well!" Veneziano exclaimed, launching himself into Germany's arms for a hug.

Germany was surprised to find himself agreeing. "I never thought they'd actually make it out the door."

"But since they did..." Veneziano's grin was feral, almost predatory. Most people would be surprised to see it on Veneziano's face, but Germany just leaned in to kiss it off, for once not worried about an untimely interruption from one of their brothers.

* * *

"Alright," Prussia said as they stood outside the restaurant.

Romano raised his eyebrows, looking sulky and unimpressed.

"Here's the thing," Prussia continued. "You're cute and all, but this is a sucky date. We're in agreement on that, right?"

"I don't want to be here with you," Romano said. "I only agreed to this date because Veneziano was being really annoying about it, so don't get any ideas Potato Bastard Brother."

"...Right," Prussia said."Okay, so what you're saying is that you'd rather go into that restaurant and eat my share of the pasta as well as your own, right? Without my awesome presence to distract you?"

Romano almost answered yes. Almost.

"Where will you be while I'm eating your pasta?" he asked suspiciously. Surely someone forced to live off of wurst and potatoes everyday wouldn't lightly give up the chance for delicious Italian pasta with tomatoes. This Prussia had to have an alternative angle.

"Where will I be?" Prussia repeated. "I will be... doing awesome things. Really awesome things!"

Romano stared, utterly nonplussed.

Prussia frowned, staring at Romano, sizing him up. "Alright. I'm going to trust you with this because you're kind of cute, okay? So don't let me down by blabbing this to everyone who'll listen, especially your brother and West."

Romano scoffed. "Why would I tell the Potato Bastard anything?"

A slow smirk crossed Prussia's face. Maybe he could make this work to his advantage. "So you don't like West dating your brother, right?"

Romano gave Prussia a look that made it clear that he thought the answer was obvious.

"...Right," Prussia said. "So you if -- hypothetically, you know -- someone were to wreck their date tonight, because you know they're going to try and have one, then you'd be willing to go into that restaurant and eat pasta or whatever. Hell, you'd even be willing to provide an alibi for your absent date, right?"

Romano stared appraisingly at Prussia. "Hypothetically? I'd demand that the stupid tomato hater's brother take me along so that I could make sure he didn't screw up in screwing up my brother's date."

"I think you'd better leave this to the experts," Prussia scoffed. "I've been disrupting their dates since they were just 'strictly friendly in a platonic way' visits. Just go in the restaurant and don't worry your cute little head about it."

"Well obviously you haven't been disruptive enough!" Romano said furiously. "You suck at ruining their dates!"

Prussia was amused. That was probably the first time anyone had ever told him he needed to be more disruptive. Still, no matter how cute Romano was, Prussia was not going to stand by and let Romano insult his awesome efforts at breaking up Veneziano and Germany. "Well how about you?" he asked. "It's not like your screaming matches have been all that productive. All you succeeded in doing is convincing them that they need to distract you."

"That exactly what they did with you!" Romano fumed. "Now shut up and let me help!"

"This isn't your normal 'burst in and scream at them' job. It's an awesome, Prussia-worthy plan that involves stealth, intrigue and water balloons. I don't think you can handle it," Prussia said seriously.

Romano's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare underestimate me where my brother's involved."

Prussia raised his eyebrows, surprised and impressed at the venom in Romano's voice. "You know, I think that we could really work this to our advantage. Those boring, fucking saccharine lovebirds aren't going to know what hit them."

Romano was alarmed to find himself matching Prussia's violent grin, but then again, Prussia was proving to be quite different from his potato bastard brother. It was true that Prussia hadn't yet succeeded in breaking up Veneziano and Germany, just as Romano had failed. But together? The idea held possibilities.

Prussia leaned forward, putting his hand on Romano's shoulder as he explained his plan. Romano didn't notice the touch, going so far as to lean into it as they strategized.

This was going to be awesome.


	2. Doing All I Can Do

Author's Note: Sorry! I'd actually meant to get this part out a bit sooner, but you know how the holidays can be. Please enjoy and review!

***

"Germany!" Veneziano gasped as the blonde pressed a precise line of kisses down Veneziano's neck. He slid his hands through Germany's unusually messy hair, succeeding in making it more messy than before. Germany blinked the loose strands out of his eyes and stared down at Veneziano, eyes hazy with a primal lust.

"Veneziano," he sighed, sounding utterly content. He leaned back into the inviting crook of Veneziano's neck, enjoying this chance to take things slow and exploring every inch of Veneziano's body, finding the places that would make him moan, sigh, gasp ---

SPLAT.

Germany jerked away from Veneziano's body. Splat was not a Veneziano sound. Well. Not in bed, at least.

Something cold seeped into his side, where his body touched the mattress. He looked over. The shredded remains of a popped balloon sat innocently on the edge of the bed, a growing spread of water and ice in the middle. What the...

Veneziano started to wriggle, complaining loudly that it was cold and wet and unpleasant.

SPLAT.

This one landed in the middle of Germany's back with a sharp sting that spoke of more ice.

Prussia. This screamed of Prussia.

"Ve~" Veneziano whined. "Why is your brother attacking us? He's supposed to be with Romano! You don't think he left Romano somewhere, do you?" Veneziano wriggled out from under Germany, racing for his cell phone. "I need to make sure Romano's alright!"

Germany suspected that once he'd figured out that he wouldn't be getting into Romano's pants, Prussia had dropped Romano off at the restaurant, probably with some half-formed idea about using him as an alibi.

Veneziano squealed as Romano picked up. "Look, Germany! Romano's talking! That means he's not in a ditch somewhere!" Veneziano frowned. "You're not in a ditch somewhere, are you?"

"No, I'm not in a ditch," Romano's voice said through the speakerphone. Germany was surprised at the pleasant, amused tone in Romano's voice. This might have been the first time he'd heard Romano happy, or at the very least not screaming at him for his choices in diet, or at Veneziano for his taste in men. "Seriously, Veneziano, where do you get these idiotic ideas? You saw me leave with Prussia. He'd protect me if someone tried to throw me in a ditch."

Germany frowned. The date seemed to be going well, more smoothly than he ever dared hope. It was suspicious.

"So you like Prussia?" Veneziano asked, sounding delighted.

"No!" Romano sputtered. "Of course not. Don't be stupid. I don't like him or anything."

Veneziano held the phone away from his mouth and beamed at Germany. "I think that means Romano likes him and won't admit it!"

Germany was pleased at the idea that his plan to set up the two nuisances might have worked, but not so pleased that he was prepared to forget the fact that he and Veneziano had just had their lovemaking interrupted by a pair of water balloons filled with ice water.

"Shut up, Veneziano! You don't know what you're talking about!" Romano fumed. "Now I'm going to hang up on you and get back to my -- my kind of awesome date."

Germany grabbed Veneziano's hand. This was his chance to prove whether or not Prussia was really with Romano. "Ask to speak to Prussia," Germany hissed.

"Wait, we want to hear from Prussia too!" Veneziano exclaimed obediently.

If Romano made up some lame excuse for Prussia's absence, that would be a sure sign that Prussia was the one throwing the balloons.

"Hey, Veneziano," Prussia said. "And West, I'm assuming, because there is no way the two of you aren't hanging out together. My question for you, though, is why aren't you guys doing it right now instead of talking to us?"

"We were!" Veneziano said enthusiastically.

"You what?" Romano demanded. "That's it. Prussia, take me home. Wait. Scratch that. Get us some to-go boxes and take me home."

"Damnit, West," Prussia said loudly. "You set me up with a cute Italy of my own so that you can get some Italy tail, and then what do you do? You screw things up so that neither of us get any!"

"I thought you said that my relations with Italy were making me soft and -- and I quote -- 'gooey'," Germany pointed out testily.

"That was before I had my own Italy to make relations with, if you know what I mean," Prussia said.

"That's it!" Romano yelled. "We're coming home right now. If you two are engaged in any -- any _relations_, I am chopping your potato balls off!"

The phone clicked off.

"Well, it'll take them at least twenty minutes to get back from the restaurant," Germany said, but Veneziano's eyes were brimming with tears.

"We ruined their date!" he wailed. "Now our brothers will never fall in love!"

Germany leaned forward to comfort Veneziano, wrapping his arms around the slighter boy, pressing his lips in a comforting kiss against Veneziano's forehead.

SPLAT.

* * *

Just out of earshot, hidden behind a line of trees, Prussia and Romano crouched by their cooler of ice and water balloons. "That was a good one," Prussia said, eating from the to-go boxes he and Romano had ordered before leaving the restaurant half an hour ago.

"Thanks," Romano said, peering through the trees to make sure he hadn't been seen on his dash back to their hiding spot.

"And this stuff isn't half bad either," Prussia said, slurping down a long noodle.

"Don't eat it all," Romano scolded. "You actually need leftovers to convince them that we were at the restaurant. The potato bastard is thorough. He'll check."

"How come my brother gets a cool nickname and I don't?" Prussia demanded. "If we're going to go forth with Stage Two of the plan, I demand a cute pet name too, and Potato Bastard's Brother doesn't count."

"Potato Bastard is _not _a pet name," Romano said, sounding disgusted with the idea. "It's an insult."

"Yeah, but it's his special insult," Prussia said. "I don't have my own special insult. Or pet name. I want one."

Romano frowned at Prussia. "Fine."

Prussia looked at him expectantly.

"What?" Romano snapped.

"My new special insult-pet name is?" Prussia prompted.

"W-well, it's not like I can just think of something right away!" Romano yelled. His face was slowly turning furiously pink color because the fact was, he usually did think of something right away and had in fact been trying out a variety of insults on Prussia all evening. It was usually easy to pick the one thing he hated the most about someone and create a food-based insult around that. Every time Romano found something to dislike about Prussia, the jerk had to go and turn it into something likable. He was arrogant, but it was kind of cute. He was loud, but he had some pretty good ideas. Even his awful potato and wurst diet wasn't that bad, because at the Italian restaurant, he'd asked Romano for suggestions and then he'd actually taken those suggestions and liked those suggestions, giving Romano a pleased, accomplished sort of butterfly feeling in his stomach.

Not that he liked Prussia or anything. That would be dumb.

"Alright," Prussia said, propping his feet up on a twisted stump. "I'm sure my awesomeness will inspire you eventually. Just let me know when you come up with something, and don't make it lame, like Wurst Breath or whatever."

Romano scowled. Why hadn't he thought of Wurst Breath?

"S-stop making yourself comfortable, Stupid Sausage," Romano said, standing up abruptly and brushing himself off in a what he hoped was a professional manner. "It's time we got back to the house, anyways, or Veneziano and the potato bastard will start getting suspicious."

Prussia stared. "Stupid Sausage? Is that really the best you can do?"

Romano was not blushing. He wasn't. "Of course not!" he said loudly. "Don't be dumb. It's all part of the pet n-- insulting process. Let's just get back to the house and put on Stage Two of Operation Potato Bastard Break Up."

"I thought it was called Operation No More Boring," Prussia said, slinging a casual arm around Romano's waist.

Romano stiffened and blushed, but reminded himself that it was all just a part of stage two. "Call it whatever you want. I don't care if your life is boring or not. I just want that potato bastard away from my brother. If that means we have to act like a couple to show those two just how dumb and annoying they are, then fine."

"In addition to all the other pranks we're going to play on them," Prussia corrected as they approached the house, to-go boxes in arm, cooler left behind for later retrieval. "You can't forget the pranks! Those are the most important part."

Romano slowly settled himself into Prussia's casual but possessive embrace. He knew Veneziano would probably be watching from the windows and their whole plan would fall to pieces if Veneziano or Germany thought that they were being anything less than sincere.

As soon as they got to the front porch, they stopped, standing there awkwardly for a long moment. Romano knew that even if Veneziano hadn't been watching before, he was now, and he would be expecting them to kiss. He and Prussia stood in silence, not quite looking at each other before Romano darted forward in a burst of movement, catching Prussia's lips with his own.

Prussia brushed Romano's cheek with one hand before pulling away, a triumphant smirk on the edges of his lips. "That was nice, püppchen," Prussia said.

"What did you just call me?" Romano demanded. "Did you just call me Puppy Chow?"

Prussia stared in confusion. "No. I called you püppchen," Prussia said.

"Well if I'm Puppy Chow, then you're -- then you're Dog Crap!" Romano yelled, storming inside the house.

"Püppchen means 'precious', idiot!" Prussia yelled.

Romano paused, cracking open the door suspiciously. "Does it really?"

Prussia wedged his foot in the door and managed to pry the door open. "No. What it really means is 'Shut up, Romano, and just let me inside for more awesome kissing instead of being a dork about this', but close enough, right?"

Romano would have protested that, but his back was suddenly pressed firmly against the wall and Prussia's lips were on his. His hands shot to Prussia's chest and pushed hard, but Prussia was stronger than him and had anticipated a struggle. Prussia didn't move at all, except for a movement in his chest that Romano was sure was a chuckle.

The kiss was...

Well, it wasn't a bad kiss. It wasn't a very good kiss either, since most good kisses involve two willing participants. It definitely wasn't bad, though. There were no tongues involved, just the slow, insistent movement of Prussia's lips on his. Almost against his will, Romano found himself relaxing into Prussia's touch.

Prussia's hand, feather light skated up Romano's side, going all the way up to end in an exploratory tug on Romano's hair curl. Romano squeaked in surprise. Later, he would flat out deny that the noise had come from him, but at that moment, his mouth was otherwise occupied and he just had to deal with Prussia's amused smirk pressing against his lips.

Romano wasn't sure what exactly happened next, but suddenly his right leg was in Prussia's hands, being pulled up. The position was strange and a bit uncomfortable but Romano was too hyper-aware of the feeling of Prussia's hand on his thigh and wasn't really paying attention to the way Prussia hooked Romano's leg around his waist.

"Come on, where's your bedroom?" Prussia mumbled, pulling away just enough so that he could speak coherently. Well. Mostly coherently. There was a husky edge to his voice that made him a bit hard to understand.

"It's right over there," Romano said, jerking his head in the direction of the bedroom.

Prussia turned in the direction Romano had indicated, his eyes all battlefield strategy, focusing on the open door with a haphazardly made bed just inside. "There?" he asked.

"Why?" Romano demanded suspiciously, a bit too late.

Prussia grinned. He already had Romano's right leg around his waist. He pulled the left one up to join it, so that he could carry Romano to the bedroom. It would be awkward, but effective and a hell of a lot easier than actually convincing the stubborn Italian to go to the bedroom of his own free will.

"Hell no," Romano said as soon as he realized what Prussia was doing. He instantly tried to pull his right leg back down to the ground. With one of Romano's legs in the air being pulled down and the other leg on the ground being pulled up, it would have been a miracle if they hadn't fallen. As it was, their fall was less painful than it could have been, but it was definitely messy. Knees knocked together, elbows ended up in awkward places and Romano's lips were mashed painfully on the jutting angle of Prussia's collarbone.

"So you had a nice date then?" Veneziano asked. Romano's head shot around to see his brother standing with one hand on the door frame, hovering curiously. Germany stood behind him, trying to look inconspicuous and only succeeding in looking tall.

"What do you think?" Romano snapped, distracted by trying to figure out how he'd ended up with Prussia on top of him even though he was pretty sure he'd been the one to fall on top of Prussia.

"It's love, Germany!" Veneziano squealed excitedly, turning to hug the taller man.

"It's our brothers making out," Germany corrected. "Prussia, honestly, is this really the time for your antics?"

Romano felt one of Prussia's hands disappear from where it was entwined with Romano's own. A quick glance up showed that Prussia was flipping off Germany even as his lips crashed back towards Romano's. This kiss was brief, however. Prussia pulled away quickly, rising to his feet. Romano moved to do the same and made it all the way to propping himself up on his elbows before Prussia grabbed him around the waist and casually threw him over his shoulder. "This is much easier," Prussia said, decisively making his way to the bedroom.

Romano's first reaction was to notice that his face was level with Prussia's ass. His second was to start yelling obscenities.

"Prussia," Germany said reprovingly. "This is hardly proper conduct. Put him down."

"It's _Romano_," Prussia said with an eyeroll, speaking with more experience than one would expect from less than an hour or two of actual contact with the Italian. "This is his way of saying he likes me."

Veneziano's "ve~" sounded vaguely affirmative, so Germany just sat back and watched, dumbstruck as Prussia carried Romano into the bedroom.


	3. Give Me A Reason Or Give Me A Chance

Author's Note: This chapter was so much fun to write! Please review. I'd love to hear what you think!

***

Prussia slammed the door shut behind them and tossed Romano on the bed. Romano landed on his back, the mattress bouncing under his weight. Romano rolled to the side, but Prussia launched himself onto the bed directly on top of Romano, making both the mattress and Romano squeak in protest.

"Moan," Prussia ordered in a whisper.

"I'm not--"

"You know that your brother and probably my brother too are listening at the door. Now moan."

Romano glared stubbornly up at Prussia and clamped his mouth closed.

"Look, you've been awesome with this acting thing so far," Prussia said, his whisper taking an impatient tone. "And when I call something awesome, I mean it, so you'd better damn well take that as a compliment. If you can't moan, though, we're never going to convince them. Now what do I need to do? Pull your hair curl again?"

Romano was furious. "If you so much as tou--" Romano broke off with a loud moan, then threw a hand to cover his own mouth, still glaring at Prussia who was now twirling the end of Romano's curl idly with a devious grin on his face.

"L-l-let go," Romano hissed, humiliated to hear the stammer in his voice.

"Moan again," Prussia said. "One more should do it, really." He gave the hair curl another decisive tug, tilting his head and grinning down at Romano. "You know, you really do look hot like this."

Later, Romano would tell himself that the moan that escaped him was because of Prussia's hand and not because of that appreciative smirk and the words accompanying it.

There was a faint murmuring from the other side of the door. Prussia hopped off the bed, removing his shirt easily and tossing it carelessly to the ground before storming to the door and flinging it open. Veneziano had obviously been leaning against the door, because he fell in the room, landing on Prussia's feet. Germany stood barely a step away, slowly turning red from the embarrassment of being caught eavesdropping on his brother during what was obviously an intimate encounter.

Romano didn't see the glare that Prussia gave the two of them, but it must have been a good one, since Veneziano scrambled to his feet while whimpering an apology,and Germany's face completely bypassed crimson in favor of purple.

"If you two don't leave us alone right now," Prussia said, each word precisely pronounced to convey the maximum amount of frustration. "Nevermind. I'm not even going to finish that threat. I'll leave it to your imaginations to figure out exactly what will happen if Romano and I can't finish what we started without any further interruptions."

Veneziano started sniffling. Germany took him by the hand and led him towards the other bedroom, safely out of the way of whatever activities Prussia had in mind. Prussia slammed the bedroom door closed as they retreated.

"What was that?" Romano demanded, sitting upright on the bed, looking absolutely furious. "I told you not to touch it!"

"Oh, please," Prussia scoffed, taking a seat on the other side of the bed. "As if you didn't like it."

Romano flushed. "I-- I-- Perverted Cabbage!"

Prussia grinned. It was a wide, genuinely amused grin. "Perverted Cabbage? I like it. It's kind of cute, but in a seriously awesome kind of way."

"You would say that," Romano mumbled sullenly.

Prussia suddenly flung himself back on the bed, letting out a loud, obscene moan.

"What was that for?" Romano demanded. "They're not listening anymore!"

"It's not like they're across the ocean. They're just in the other room. They could still hear that." Prussia grinned wider. "I want to make sure that they know exactly how awesome the sex we're having is. Part of the plan, remember? Establish credibility and embarrass and/or annoy the hell out of them."

"I'm supposed to be setting a good example for my brother," Romano said, covering his red face with both hands. "I'm having obnoxiously loud, probably unprotected sex with a potato head."

"Not unprotected!" Prussia interrupted. "I brought condoms. Remember, I didn't know you were such an annoying prude before I picked you up for our date."

Romano shot him a dirty look.

"What?" Prussia said, shrugging. "No need to get all huffy about it. I mean, it's not that I would have protested if you'd been a nubile little nymphomaniac, but I like you the way you are."

Romano felt a jolt of disbelief. That was ridiculous. Hadn't Prussia gotten the memo? Nobody liked Romano just the way he was. Even Spain, for all of his oblivious half-advances would continually state his dissatisfaction with Romano's "uncuteness" and wish he was more like Veneziano.

"Now you're just being dumb," Romano said, leaning his back against the headboard. "Potatohead flattery isn't going to get you in my pants, you know."

Prussia scoffed. "As if I need flattery at this point. Whose sheer awesomeness was making you moan in bed just a few moments ago? Oh yeah, that'd be mine." Prussia's smirk widened. "And you haven't even seen the Five Meters yet, baby."

"And I'm not going to," Romano insisted, scooting away. "Ever. So stop thinking stupid perverted cabbage thoughts!"

"It's your own fault for looking so goddamned cute when I pulled your hair curl," Prussia laughed.

"Shouldn't we be making sure the Potato Bastard isn't molesting my brother?" Romano asked, desperately trying to change the topic as he moved to rise to his feet.

"As if," Prussia said, pulling Romano back down. "You saw Veneziano sulking. He's your brother. You know him better than I do. What do you really think he's doing now?"

"Crying," Romano replied instantly. "And even if the Potato Bastard got him to quit, he's probably trying to make it up to us." Romano sniffed the air. "I don't smell him cooking yet, so he's probably still crying."

"I'm going to teach you proper strategy yet," Prussia said, punching Romano playfully in the shoulder.

Romano scowled and rubbed his shoulder. "I don't need strategy, idiot."

"You're right. You don't," Prussia said glibly. "Right now, at least. Fifty years in the future when you've got, I don't know, England or France breathing down your neck?"

"I meant," Romano said," I don't need you teaching me strategy. I'm doing fine without your help."

"Yeah, screaming at people and then hiding behind other people if they turn out to be too scary," Prussia chuckled. "Way to go, Romano, that's some brilliant tactical maneuvering there."

Romano punched Prussia in the side, making the other boy laugh harder. Romano stuck his lower lip out and turned away from Prussia in a grumpier (and, as Spain liked to remind him, less cute) version of Veneziano's pout.

"Come on, don't be like that," Prussia said, pulling Romano back towards him. Romano stiffened at the touch, pulling away. "Romano~, you're my new awesome teammate in the fight against boring couples! You're not allowed to be mad at me."

"Stop being dumb," Romano said. "Of course I'm mad at you. You're Potato Bastard's brother. Being mad at you is just the normal way of things."

"Hm," Prussia said, obviously dissatisfied with this answer. He brightened up. "Hey! You know what time it is?"

"Time for us to leave the bedroom because you have no stamina?" Romano asked.

"Not quite," Prussia said cheerfully. "Time for you to let them know exactly how awesome I am in bed." Without any further preamble, he reached over and tugged on Romano's hair curl. Romano let out half a moan before clamping his jaw down hard, cutting the sound off again.

"Stupid perverted cabbage!" Romano said. "Do you even know -- of course you know, that's why you're doing it. I am not going to moan again. Veneziano--"

"Veneziano already thinks we're doing it," Prussia interrupted. "You just need to make sure he knows you like it. Now come on!" Prussia reached for the hair curl again, but Romano held it out of his reach.

"I'm not going to be the one to put ideas into his head about -- about the joys of sleeping with dumb, macho Germans!"

"Well it's not going to be you doing that, remember? That'd be my brother. The one who we're trying to annoy with our obnoxiously loud sex. The one we're probably failing to annoy because someone isn't a team player."

Romano glared. "Fine, you idiot. But you are not touching my hair curl again. I can moan on my own."

Prussia leaned back. "Be my guest, hot shot. But make it good. I don't want my reputation tarnished because you don't know how to moan without proper incentive."

Romano looked stubbornly defiant now and he opened his mouth, determined to make the best, most satisfyingly sexed up moan he had ever made in his life. "Oh~" he began, when suddenly Prussia's hand was sliding sensually from his scalp down to the tip of his hair curl. "Prussia!" he yelped.

Romano glared furiously and batted Prussia's hand away. "What's your problem?"

"You were making porntastic noises," Prussia said. "Seriously, have you ever had sex? No one makes porntastic noises unless they're A) trying to cover up the fact that they're having really sucky sex or B) they're a porn star. Everyone knows that sucky sex with the awesome Prussia just doesn't happen, so everyone's going to assume you're a porn star. You don't want your brother to think you're a porn star, do you?"

"No!" Romano said furiously. "Why would I--"

"So really," Prussia continued, as if Romano wasn't talking, "I was doing you a favor." Prussia raised his eyebrows. "A favor that you are more than welcome to repay, you know."

That was when Romano decided that Prussia needed to be smothered with a pillow.

* * *

"Veneziano, get away from that door," Germany hissed.

"But I don't hear anything going on in there anymore!" Veneziano protested, ear pressed against the door. "It's been _hours _and I want to know if they're done having sex because I made pasta to make up for being rude earlier! Besides, I'm pretty sure this is my brother's first time having sex so I want to celebrate!"

Germany winced. Romano had been a virgin? This could only end badly. Romano would undoubtedly blame Prussia for the inevitable soreness that came after losing your virginity and he would probably accuse Prussia of coercing him (and Germany wasn't sure whether or not that accusation would have been entirely unfounded, though Romano had definitely enjoyed the experience, judging by the loud moans that had reverberated through the house up until a while ago).

"Maybe we should leave them alone," Germany suggested.

"But the pasta!" Veneziano protested.

The door swung open, Veneziano falling inside once again. Prussia stood in the door frame, looking annoyed but not half as homicidal as before. He had a still-bruising black eye and hundreds of tiny white feathers stuck in his hair. Germany was impressed, despite himself. It's obvious that either Prussia got into a very violent pillow fight with someone or had just had a round of -- possibly several rounds of -- very exhausting, very kinky sex of which Germany most definitely did not want to hear any details about.

"I made pasta for you both!" Veneziano said. "As an 'I'm-sorry-for-interrupting-your-lovemaking-but-congratulations-on-taking-what-I'm-pretty-sure-was-my-brother's-virginity!' present!"

Prussia blinked blearily at Veneziano, then turned back to the room. "Romano, wake up. Your brother made us pasta to celebrate the fact that we just had hot sex."

Romano startled awake. He hadn't even realized that he'd fallen asleep. That pillow fight must have taken more out of him than he'd realized. Who'd have thought that Prussia's self-proclaimed battlefield strategy prowess extended to pillow fights as well? "Pasta?" Romano asked, making sure that he'd heard right.

"Yeah, pasta. Come on, I'm hungry." Prussia said impatiently.

"Hold on, let me find my --" Romano paused and his voice took on a familiar, angry edge. "Prussia, where the hell are my pants?"

"Where'd you take them off?" Prussia asked.

"I don't remember taking my pants off at all," Romano said furiously. "Prussia, what did you do with my pants?"

"Damn, I'm awesome," Prussia said, retreating back into the bedroom, shutting the door with a satisfied click behind him.

There was the sound of a brief scuffle before Prussia and Romano emerged, both wearing pants this time. "A-alright," Romano said, red faced and shrugging off Prussia's hand from around his waist.


	4. I Did Love

Dinner was tense, to say the least. The pasta was, of course, delicious. The atmosphere, however, left much to be desired. Germany was tense. He was waiting for either Prussia to start blabbing the details of his sexual encounter with Romano, or for Romano to finally realize that he'd lost his virginity to one of the Potato Bastard's closest relatives.

Instead of being talkative, however, Prussia just looked content and vaguely tired. Even more surprisingly, Romano didn't look angry. He just looked kind of confused. Well, alright, he did look a little angry, but no more than usual.

"So," Germany said, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Will you two be seeing each other again after this?"

Romano glared at him. "What are you implying?" he demanded hotly. "You think I'm the type of guy who would -- would do the things that the perverted cabbage and I did without seeing him again? Maybe you're some kind of macho man slut Hasselho, but Prussia and I don't just do things with people and then run off and leave them! Is that what you're planning on doing with my brother?"

Prussia opened his mouth to go into annoyingly supportive boyfriend mode when Veneziano unwittingly interrupted. "Well, he hasn't yet! Could you pass the bread basket?"

There was a hard silence as Romano decided not to read anything into his brother's statement.

"So," Prussia said, and Romano winced, anticipating something horrible and perverted to come out of Prussia's mouth. His calm, relaxed attitude had probably just been a build-up to this moment of lewd, disgusting --

"I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you," Prussia said.

It was worse than Romano had feared. He attempted to hide under his napkin.

"What?" Germany asked, nonplussed.

"Not talking to you, bruder," Prussia replied, not taking his eyes off Romano. "I'm talking to the spazzy little tomatoface who I just confessed my love for." To add insult to injury (or, rather, the other way around), Prussia punctuated his statement with a sharp kick under the table to Romano's shin.

Hmph. If that perverted cabbage thought that he could bully Romano into doing things, he was wrong. That may have worked in the bedroom, when Prussia had full access to his haircurl, but not now. Romano jutted out his lip and stared at Prussia in a stubborn fashion.

"See how cute he is, peeking out all shy from behind his napkin?" Prussia asked, ruffling Romano's hair.

"I'm not cute and I'm definitely not shy, you perverted--"

"Germany, Germany!" Veneziano squealed. "Look at how red Romano's face is! That's 'I love you too' in Romano-language! He does that to me too, whenever I say that I love him!"

"My face gets red when I'm mad, idiot," Romano snapped. "And you always make me mad, especially when you go around saying embarrassing stuff like that!"

"Romano~" Prussia cooed.

"Shut up," Romano said.

"Romano~" Prussia repeated in the same tone. Romano glanced at Germany, wondering how on earth Germany was capable of missing the threat lacing Prussia's voice. The potato bastard was frowning, but Romano wasn't sure whether that was because of Prussia's less-than-sweet undertones or because the wind had shifted and his face had gotten stuck like that.

"Shut up," Romano answered again.

Prussia scooted closer to him and tilted Romano's chin towards him. "Come on, sugarlips. You were screaming my name so loud that our brothers could hear it across your house. Is admitting that you love me -- and I know you do, I'm too awesome for unrequited love no matter what lies and slander Hungary tries to spread -- is admitting that you love me really more embarrassing?"

"Ye-- no-- That's a trick question, you asshole!" Romano yelled. "And what does Hungary have to do with this?"

"Old thing," Prussia said in an utterly dismissive tone.

"Hmph," Romano replied succinctly, falling into a sulk.

"Romano's jealous!" Veneziano translated helpfully.

"I am not!" Romano yelled defensively. "That's just dumb! Why would I be jealous of a girl who -- I'm not -- that's just dumb! You're such an idiot, Veneziano!"

Veneziano, used to Romano's constant stream of insults smiled blithely back, so Romano threw a sauce-drenched noodle at his face. It landed across the bridge of his nose and stuck there, leaving Veneziano cross-eyed and preoccupied with trying to reach it with his tongue until an exasperated Germany handed him a napkin.

"Look," Germany said in what he hoped was a tone that was slow and rational enough to appeal even to the three people least likely to listen to him. "I'm not sure that this date went very well."

"Speak for yourself," Prussia said with a leer, taking advantage of his close proximity to Romano to give Romano's hair curl a solid yank.

"Chigi!" Romano yelped before scooting away from Prussia.

"That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Germany said decisively. "None of the books I've read on the subject would describe that as a healthy relationship. Prussia has had one night stands before, and I'm sure Romano would prefer if this was nothing more than--"

"What the fuck," Prussia said in bemused disbelief. "Are you seriously trying to tell me that you don't think that Romano and I should be together despite the fact that you were the one who set us up and we just had awesome sex and I just confessed my love for him? That's freakishly controlling, even for you, West."

"I'm not saying -- I was being helpful," Germany said, rubbing his temples as he felt a headache creeping up on him. "I just think that you should consider what Romano has to say about this. I'm not sure that you really considered his feelings when you dragged him off to the bedroom and I'm not sure you're considering them right now by suddenly declaring your 'awesome' love for him. I'm sure he's feeling very vulnerable after what was presumably his first--"

Romano threw his entire bowl at Germany. It bounced off of his chest and dumped in his lap. Veneziano eyed it contemplatively and for one horrifying moment, Romano thought that Veneziano would do something like eat it off of Germany's lap or suggest that Germany take off his pants. Or both. Eurgh.

"Romano, stop making disgusted faces and staring in the general direction of my brother's crotch and just tell him that you love me so that he'll stop trying to defend your honor. Otherwise he'll call you vulnerable again, along with who knows what other idiotic adjectives. I can almost guarantee the word delicate will come up." Prussia punctuated his order with a jab to Romano's side, making Romano scowl as he jerked away.

"Fine, whatever. I love you, even if you're a potato-y manslut," Romano snapped as Prussia did an in-seat victory dance.

"Is potato-y a word?" Veneziano asked, looking genuinely curious as he helped Germany clean up the pasta.

"It is now," Prussia said cheerfully. "Take that, bruder. See, it's a totally healthy relationship!"

Germany continued frowning. "Prussia. Be serious, please. You've known Romano for, what, a few hours now? Less than a day. Love is a big step in a relationship, and I just don't want to see--"

"So you're saying that you didn't love Veneziano at first sight?" Prussia asked, sounding shocked.

Romano had to suppress a surprised smile. Prussia was _good_.

"Of course not," Germany said. "I thought he was weak and annoying for a long time after I met him. It wasn't until much, much later that --" Germany was cut off by the sounds of Veneziano bursting into tears. Germany quickly began patting the crying nation awkwardly in what was probably supposed to be a comforting manner.

"Veneziano, did you fall in love with Germany right away?" Prussia asked as the crying quieted to dismayed sniffles.

"Well, not right away," Veneziano said, much to Germany's relief. "I thought he was big and scary at first! But then exactly, um, twenty-three seconds after we met, I realized that he had a really good heart and I fell in love!" The dismayed sniffles returned in full force. "B-but Germany didn't love me back!"

"And now he's trying to stop Prussia and me from falling in love," Romano said, egging Veneziano on. "I don't think that potato bastard even believes in love!"

"It's okay, püppchen," Prussia told Romano comfortingly, slinging an arm around Romano's shoulders. Romano stiffened, but decided to allow it because, damnit, they were _so fucking close_.

"That's not what I meant," Germany said frantically, beginning to seriously lose his composure. "Veneziano, what we have is different from Prussia and Romano. Prussia and Romano had sex. Having sex isn't the same as being in love."

"We have sex too!" Veneziano protested. "Does that mean you really don't love me?"

Romano pulled away from Prussia in order to pull Veneziano into a possessive, brotherly hug. "I think you'd better go," he told Germany coldly. He led Veneziano away from the table. "Come on, idiot. The potatoes can show themselves out."

* * *

This sucked.

Breaking up West and Veneziano was supposed to be fun. It _had _been fun, especially that last day spent with Romano. Having fun hadn't been the problem. The thing was, while it was supposed to be fun, it was only supposed to be a means to an end and that end was supposed to involve him and his brother partying hard and drinking lots of beer without getting distracted by "checking in" with Veneziano or going home early because Veneziano had a shoe-tying crisis or not going out at all so that Veneziano didn't get lonely. Not sitting around the house moping.

Not that Prussia was moping. Hell no. He was having an awesome time, basking in his own presence and occasionally trying to prod West into doing something interesting. West was an idiot and not complying, though. He just sat around the house watching bad Italian soap operas. He was almost more fun when he and Italy --

Blasphemy, Prussia thought, cutting off his previous thought. What would Romano think if he knew that Prussia regretted breaking up West and Veneziano?

Although, why did it matter what Romano thought? Romano had kicked him and West out of his house two weeks ago, and that had been the last that Prussia had heard from him. West had made a halfhearted attempt to reconcile with Veneziano and had been quickly dismissed by Romano, who had told him on no uncertain terms that potato bastards were no longer welcome on Italian soil. Germany might have pressed the issue further, but Romano had donned a fedora (Mm, Romano in a fedora. West was a lucky bastard and he didn't he even realize it.) and called on a mafia hit team to enforce the new anti-potato bastard rule.

This sucked.

Prussia stared at the ceiling. He was bored.

Stupid West, being all broody.

Stupid Romano, being all... not talking to him even though they didn't have any reason to talk any more.

Stupid Veneziano. Prussia didn't know why he was mad at Veneziano. He just needed more people to be mad at, really.

Stupid Austria, too. Austria was always fun to be mad at.

The phone rang. Maybe it was Romano, calling to apologize! Prussia sprung to the phone. "Hello, you've reached the awesome Prussia! If you're calling to apologize--"

"Why would I want to apologize?" Romano demanded.

Hell yeah! He was amazing. Probably psychic too, Prussia congratulated himself.

"I don't know, why _do _you want to apologize?" Prussia asked suavely.

"I don't!" Romano yelled. "Stupid jerk. I just... Look. I'm calling to. Shut up."

Prussia frowned. "Huh?"

"It's not that I want those two back together," Romano said hurriedly. "I don't. I hate potato bastards and my brother is an idiot for ever associating with one."

"That's why we broke them up," Prussia agreed. "Your point?"

"Veneziano has been moping and whining and annoying. I'd forgotten how freakishly clingy he is. Normally he directs all that towards Germany, but since the potato bastard isn't around, it's up to me to make sure that his shoes are tied and a million other dumb things. Worst of all, he's moping and it sucks. Every three seconds, he bursts into tears and starts bawling about how that bowl or this tuft of grass or that crack in the wall reminds him of Germany. It's driving me nuts."

"Ha ha ha!" Prussia laughed loudly in the phone. "Well, that sucks for you, püppchen. West and I are having a blast! We're living it up, two awesome bachelors! Life is one big party!"

Romano was silent for a moment. "Is that 'Un Posto al Sole' I hear in the background? And... crying?"

"No!" Prussia exclaimed. "That's just the television."

"Right. 'Un Posto al Sole' is usually found on the television," Romano agreed dryly. "Why are you watching Italian soap operas?"

"Guido!" Germany yelled loudly. "How could she leave you like that?"

"Huh, nevermind. That explains it all, I guess," Romano said.

"I'm happy," Prussia insisted. "Our plan worked out perfectly! Everything went according to plan, thanks to my awesomeness."

"And that's why the potato bastard is crying over Italian soap operas," Romano said, sarcasm thick in his voice. "Makes perfect sense."

"I'm happy," Prussia insisted. "Our plan worked out perfectly! Everything went according to plan, thanks to my awesomeness."

"Right," Romano said, completely unconvinced.

It took a bit of work over the course of a very loud, angry phone conversation to get the two masters of denial to come to the realization that they both secretly wanted to reunite Germany and Veneziano. They were both resourceful, however, and once they had come to the conclusion that that they had the same goal, they quickly found ways to rationalize their decision.

"Veneziano's moping is annoying," Romano said.

"We never had a chance to use all other pranks," Prussia raged. "The toilet paper, Romano! The gumball machine!"

"And now the potato bastard is stealing our soap operas!" Romano continued.

"And I had this really brilliant plan involving pigeons," Prussia said. "But it won't work unless they're together."

"So we have to get them back together," Romano agreed, voice dripping with disgust at the idea. "If you tell anyone I agreed to this, I'll smother you in your sleep!"

"Sounds kinky," Prussia said, grinning into the mouthpiece of his phone. "Don't tempt me, püppchen. I want people finding out about this about as little as you do."

"So how are we going to do this?" Romano demanded. "You're the one who's always bragging about your strategy stuff."

"Because I'm awesome at it," Prussia agreed.

"So?" Romano pressed impatiently. "The plan?"

"We have to convince them that we're back together," Prussia said firmly. "And show them how great being in a relationship can be."

"You just want in my pants," Romano accused.

"Been there, done that, still have the feathers in my hair," Prussia said dismissively.

"I meant in a -- a -- you know! In a having sex kind of way!" Romano stammered furiously.

"So I figure my brother will be easier to get through to, and once he has his head back on right, we can convince him to make the first move towards re-wooing Veneziano," Prussia said. "So I'll pick you up around six and we'll come over here to make out obnoxiously on the couch."

"Why do all of your plans involve us making out?" Romano demanded. "Are you sure this isn't some kind of trick?"

"I'm an awesome strategic genius!" Prussia said defensively. "It's a good tactical move to work with what's proven to be awesome in the past. If that means all of my plans have to involve either making out or a bunch of blood and gore, then that's a sacrifice I'm willing to make. What about you, Romano? Are you willing to make sacrifices to the cause or are you going to wimp out on me?"

"Shut up," Romano muttered sulkily. "Just don't be late, okay? And I'm avoiding Veneziano, so pick me up at Spain's house."

"Sure," Prussia said. "Six o'clock, see you then."

"And I'm _not _looking forward to it," Romano added viciously before slamming the phone down, successfully disconnecting the call.

***

Author's Note: All comments and criticism would be greatly appreciated! There's just one more chapter after this, I believe.


	5. I Skip A Heartbeat For You

Prussia knocked on Spain's door at 7:14. Spain opened the door promptly, a cheerful smile on his face and an enormous, freshly polished battle axe hoisted on one shoulder. "Hi, Prussia."

Prussia glanced past Spain. "I'm here to pick up Romano. He said he was here."

Spain continued smiling. "Hold on just one moment, Prussia. Why don't you take a seat?"

"What is this, 'To Catch Predator'?" Prussia demanded. "That's a little ironic coming from you, don't you think, Spain?"

Spain ignored him, shifting his grip on his axe and still smiling. "You're here for Romano," Spain stated.

"Well, yeah," Prussia said, as if it were obvious, which it completely was since he'd already said that.

There was something different about Spain's smile, Prussia was beginning to notice. Something just a little bit off and a little bit familiar at the same time. "What are your intentions towards Romano?"

"Man, Romano doesn't tell you anything, does he?" Prussia asked, laughing. "It's not like that, Spain."

"Romano didn't have to tell me anything," Spain said, his fixed smile curling into more of a rueful grin. "In fact, he usually doesn't and when he does, he's almost always lying."

"I noticed that," Prussia said grinning.

"I figured you had, but you haven't really thought about it, have you?" Spain asked. "It's okay. I can be kind of dumb like that too."

Prussia drew himself up. "What?" he demanded. "I'm the awesome Prussia!"

"Oh, I know that!" Spain said, moving to set his axe down. He paused. "Just one thing. If you hurt him, you won't survive to regret it."

"Whatever happened to bros before hos?" Prussia demanded indignantly.

Prussia suddenly had Spain's massive axe whipping towards his face. It stopped suddenly and hovered, the blade pressed against the bridge of Prussia's nose. Spain smiled. "Watch your language," he said before setting the axe down on the ground as Prussia nodded and laughed nervously.

"Great!" Spain said, pulling Prussia into a massive hug. "I'm glad we got that unpleasantness done with! It's so great to see you!"

"Yeah!" Prussia said, trying not to show any discomfort at Spain's threats. "Always awesome to see you, Spain. So is Romano here?"

"He's upstairs sulking," Spain explained. "I'm pretty sure he thinks you forgot about him."

"Thanks," Prussia said, heading towards the stairs.

"And Prussia?" Spain said cheerily. Prussia glanced back. "I meant it, okay?"

Prussia shot him a thumbs up and finished heading up the stairs. "Hey, Romano? You up here?"

"Is that you, Prussia?" Romano asked from behind one of the closed doors.

"Yeah!" Prussia said. "You ready to go? I got the pigeons and--"

The door flung open, revealing a furious looking Romano (was there any other kind?) with red-rimmed eyes. "Go away."

"What?" Prussia asked. "Is this because I was late?"

"No," Romano snapped, crossing his arms defensively. "I didn't care that you were late! Just because you promised you'd be on time and you didn't even call..."

"Jeeze," Prussia said. "You act like we're really dating or something."

Romano grabbed the first thing within reach, an overstuffed pillow, and threw it with all of his less than considerable might at Prussia's face. Prussia caught it and stared at it in confusion as Romano slammed the door. Prussia stared blankly at the door. What had just...

The door flew open and Romano stormed out, snatched the pillow out of Prussia's hands, and stormed back into his room, slamming the door all over again.

"Romano?" Prussia asked, trying the handle. It was locked. He looked around and spotted eighteen and a half things that he could use to pick the lock, but for once, he wasn't sure that bursting in and demanding answers would be the most awesome course of action.

"Go 'way." Romano mumbled.

"Come on, Romano," Prussia whined. "Just tell me what I did!"

"You're so dumb! I should have never missed you!" Romano yelled.

"You missed me?" Prussia asked, surprised until his ego took hold and he laughed loudly. "Of course you missed the awesome me!"

"Shut up! I hate you!" Romano said, and there was the thud and crash of something breakable being thrown at the door.

"Damnit," Prussia said. "Come on! Just tell me what's wrong and I'll fix it."

"It's not you, idiot. It's me." came a quiet, miserable voice on the other side of the door. Prussia wasn't sure he was even supposed to hear it, but instead of pity, all he felt was anger.

"Hell no! You are not ditching me with that trite line!" Prussia yelled. No one dumped -- fake dumped -- dumped -- whatever. No one did that to Prussia.

Something else breakable hit the door with a loud crash. Prussia sighed loudly. "Can you just explain to me what's going on? Without using lame break-up lines?"

"How can I break up with you if we aren't really going out?" Romano demanded furiously.

"Oh," Prussia said, voice dawning in realization. "Oh! You wanted to be going out, didn't you? I mean, seriously, how could you resist someone as awesome as me?"

CRASH.

Was that that the _bed _he had just thrown at the door?

"Look," Prussia amended. "I didn't know you wanted to really be dating. I kind of knew you liked me because the even when I drove you crazy with pulling your hair curl and teasing you about being a porn star, you still hung out with me. I didn't think it was, you know, like-like, though. I thought it was more of a like-to-hate-me sort of thing? Except, you know, cause I'm all awesome... Fuck. That made no freaking sense. You make no freaking sense."

There were no crashes from the other side of the door. Prussia took that as a good sign.

"You know... If you wanted to date. For real. I." Prussia didn't understand why his throat was so tight. He was Prussia, though. He wasn't about to let a constricting throat stop him and those stupid butterflies fluttering in his stomach didn't even stand a chance against his awesomeness. "Well, I wouldn't be... We make a really awesome team, you know?"

There was a click and a pair of hazel eyes peeked through the door. "Is this your dumbass way of asking me out?"

"Only if you're accepting," Prussia said. "If you're about to reject me then I'm going to go back to the pigeons in my car and this never happened."

The eyes narrowed and stared him down assessingly. "Huh. I guess I accept. Just don't expect me to be nice to you or to remember your birthday or anything like that."

"It's not like I'm going to remember yours, either," Prussia snorted. March seventeenth. Hell yeah, he was already an awesome boyfriend.

The door cracked open a bit farther and Prussia was able to see the pink blush on Romano's cheeks. It was adorable. Prussia grabbed his hand and pulled him through the doorway. "Awesome. Come on."

"Where are we going?" Romano demanded.

Prussia raised his eyebrows. "To go make out on Germany's couch."

Romano glared suspiciously at him. "Is this all just to get Veneziano and your brother back to--" He didn't finish his thought because Prussia's lips were suddenly on his. This wasn't like their earlier kisses at all. The kisses they'd shared against the wall after the water balloon incident had been showy and messy. This was...

Romano refused to call it sweet.

It was a chaste kiss at first, Prussia's lips soft and dry on Romano's. Prussia's hand snuck around to the back of Romano's head and ran through the soft hair at the base of Romano's neck. Romano grew impatient, opening his mouth against Prussia's. Prussia smirked into the kiss and moved his hand upwards to that one particular hair--

Romano yanked himself away from the kiss, blushing furiously. "I -- I get it. Whatever. Let's go make out on Germany's couch."

"And I have pigeons if all goes well," Prussia said proudly.

"Shut up," Romano said, kissing Prussia on the mouth briefly, just because he could. "If those pigeons crap on me, I'm breaking up with you."

"You wouldn't," Prussia said confidently. "But by the way, Fritzie Pigeon has shotgun."

"What?" Romano demanded. "I'm your new boyfriend, idiot. I have automatic shotgun."

"Fritzie called it first," Prussia said unapologetically.

"She's a _pigeon_," Romano snapped.

Spain watched them leave. That had gone better than even he'd hoped. They seemed happy together, in an angry, bickering way. They made a good pair.

Spain still meant what he'd said about the battle axe, though.

* * *

It didn't take much, in the end, to get Germany and Veneziano back together. They made out on Germany's couch for all of thirty seconds before Romano got creeped out by the idea of making out on Germany's couch, then completely freaked out upon realizing that not only had been making out on Germany's couch, but that Germany had been standing there in boxers and a wife beater, ice cream in hand, just staring at them in a vaguely wistful manner for that entire thirty seconds of make-out action.

Within the hour, Germany was dressed in his best, begging Veneziano to take him back. An hour later, the pigeons attacked.

"We're an awesome team," Prussia said as they drove their getaway vehicle, also known as Prussia's beat-up convertible.

Romano rolled his eyes. "That sucked. Your brother is a voyeur, I was tainted by his potato couch, my brother has been re-tainted by his potato-y I-don't-want-to-think-about-it, and a pigeon bit me."

"Fritzie didn't mean anything by it," Prussia assured him. "She's just a little jealous, since she knows I like you better."

"So why does she get shotgun?" Romano demanded from the backseat.

"Well, she called it..." Seeing that this tactic wasn't going to fly with Romano, Prussia switched gears. "So that I can stare at your cute smiling face in my rearview mirror!"

Romano scowled at him in the mirror. "I hate you, you stupid, perverted cabbage."

"Love you too, püppchen," Prussia said cheekily, resisting the urge to turn around in his seat to kiss Romano.

Oh, what the hell. He could steer with his feet and Romano would tell him if he was about to run into anyone. Thank god for cruise control.

And they lived happily ever after.

The oncoming traffic did so as well, for the most part at least.

*

Author's Note: And that's a rap! Before I forget, all chapter titles were taken from the lyrics of "Heartbeat" by Scouting For Girls, which I listened to religiously while writing this fic. I hope you guys enjoyed the story. Please leave a review!


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